Grandma for an Hour

Grandma for Hire

“Mr. Thompson, forgive me, please, but I need to leave early today. May I? My little girl is unwell.”

Emily laid the paperwork and tomorrows schedule gently on her managers desk. There was still an hour left until the end of the workday, but the nursery had already called twice and shed decided to try her luck asking to leave. Shed only recently started at this construction company, landing the secretary job by pure luck, despite having no experience and knowing full well she didn’t meet the visual requirements spelled out in the posting. Before her interview, Emily had shaken her head in the mirror:

Well, that box certainly isnt for me.

Her old cardigan, which she wore sparingly to preserve it, still looked tidy, though the skirt left much to be desired. Her mother had made it, carefully choosing the fabric and spending days on the sewing machine, each seam a test of patience.

Itll be just as good as a shop-bought one.

Mum, its handmade! Of course, its just as good. Emily didnt quite believe it, but knew her mother needed to hear those words.

There was never any spare money for new clothes. Emily remembered the days when her dad was alive, and she didnt have to worry about outfits. All that changed when her father passed. Her mothers salary as a nurse didnt stretch far. Still, they manageduntil Gran fell ill. Relations between Emilys mum, Lydia, and her mother-in-law were always, to put it kindly, strained.

Lydia! You clearly have no sense of family whatsoever. Not that Id expect any better, given your background. But now youre in this family, so get used to the idea: we look after our own.

Emily, then still a girl, didnt quite grasp her grans lectures. They sounded weighty and important, but years later, she realised they were empty words. Gran meant that Lydia should care for her, hand over most of her wages, and expect nothing in returnapart from a barrage of criticism.

Mum! Why do you never answer back? Why do you let her get away with it? Emily, older then, would ask as her mother calmly folded ironed laundry.

Because, Em, I know shes wrong. And I know shes ill, and on her own. Theres nobody else left for her but us. She fell out with her sister and her nephews want nothing more to do with her. Lydia smoothed the last towel with a sigh. And, besides I promised your dad I wouldnt abandon her. How could I break my word?

Emily longed to tell Gran everything she thought of her, but Lydia always gently stopped her with a look.

No need, Em. I dont take it personally. Let her talk. What matters is we do the right thing, and she doesnt go without.

She wouldnt go without anyway! Emily would mumble. Older and wiser to the ways of the world, she knew Gran wasnt short of moneya large flat, another let out from her own mother, a good pension, and granddads savings in the bank. Gran wanted for nothing, yet still took from Lydia.

Why does she take your money, Mum? Doesnt she have enough? Emily scrawled figures into their household expense notebook.

Emily! Lydia would fling down a tea towel.

What?

Please stop. Dont become like just, be yourself. Dont let all that darkness in. Its not ours; it never was and never will be. Dont lay claim to it, not even in thought. Otherwise, youll never get free.

Emily only truly understood after her gran passed away. The will and final letter were in a brown envelope in Grans bedside table. Lydia read them, hands shaking, crumpled the pages and tossed them aside.

Come on.

Where?

Theres nothing keeping us here now. My bit is done.

Emily didnt ask. Later, she learned Gran had left everything to her nephews. Lydia never repeated what the farewell letter said, only once blurting out: She left it to them because theyre blood. Thats enough, Em. Dont ask again. Let it be.

She doubted I was her granddaughter? Emily eventually asked.

No. Lydias sigh filled the silence. She thought you were too much like menothing from your fathers side. Strange blood.

Is it true? Am I not like Dad?

Emily, you look more like him than youll ever know. Not just in appearance, but in spirit. He was the best man I ever knew. So, pleaseone last time. Remember only the good of this family. Let the rest go.

Emily wanted to argue but she saw how important it was to Lydia. She left school, went to university; it was then the now-infamous skirt was made. She wore it to her exams, lectures, later to her job on the maths faculty; it was lucky, so she wore it to her secretary interviewshe didnt own smart trousers anyway.

She heard sniggers in HR, straightened her back and remembered Lydias advice.

Young lady, no experience, a daughter Where did you work before?

I was a lecturer at the university.

Why change careers?

I wanted to try something new. She tried to appear calm, though her knees trembled. Surely theyd turn her down.

But they didnt. The head of HR, after a few more questions, offered her the secretary role on probation.

Once Emily left, the chatter started: Why this one for Mr. Thompson? He likes clever women. Lets see how it plays out. Shell scrub up with a decent wardrobe. Hurry up, lets get on.

With her boss, things clicked from the start. Watching her read the coffee machine manual, Mr. Thompson grinned.

First woman Ive seen actually read it instead of pushing all the buttons! Well get along.

The role was easier than expected. Her boss liked control, but Emily had a good memory and a way of making things run on time, reshuffling meetings so everyone thanked her, not resented her. She kept to her word; the only issue was, sometimes, she had to leave early for her daughter.

Emily, I understand, really, but its becoming routine. Ill soon need a new secretary entirely, Mr. Thompson sighed.

Headache? Need a tablet?

I’ll be fine. Of course, gochildren are children. But youll need to work something out. Youve no family backup at all?

No, none. My mums gone. No other relatives.

I see so, a nanny?

I cant afford that just yet. But Ill find a solution, I promise. Its my problem. Emily nodded and left, spirits low. Shed pick up Molly at nursery, then home for chores Sometimes she wanted to scream from the weight of it all. Why was life so hard, so lonely?

She remembered Lydias words: Not everyone you meet is good, but youll treasure the few who are. Dont let them slip by.

And if there are none at all?

Impossible, Em. What are the odds, mathematician? There aren’t many truly nasty peoplemost are just self-interested. Some are open about it, others not. I hope you meet more of the latter.

Emily regretted not listening to her mother, especially when shed met Mollys father, Jamesa bright, driven young scientist, all fire and ambition. He was what Emily lacked. But they wanted different things. Emily wanted family and career; James wanted only career. He barely thought of the future.

When offered a post in Germany, he acceptedthough hed proposed a week earlier.

Cant we wait? A few years isnt so long.

James I cant wait. Im having a baby

Emily saw his face drop; that was the end.

Must it be now? Cant you delay? James paced the room without looking at her.

Not possible. But dont worryIll sort everything. Good luck!

They never saw each other again. Molly was born a month after Lydia passeda heart attack at work with doctors all around, yet nothing more could be done. Emily buried her mother, telling herself:

Later, Mum. When Molly’s born, Ill cryjust later, all right?

But she never found the time; Molly was poorly, and life became a mechanical cycle: laundry, housework, walks, feeding. Emily left her university job, unable to bear the gossip and judgements.

Sorry, Mum, Im just too thin-skinned. But what did I do wrong? Had a baby? Didnt force James to marry me? Maybe I shouldve pushed. But youd have told me to look ahead. So Im trying, Mum. Not doing very well yet

When a spot came up, Emily put Molly into nursery. The first year was hardestMolly always ill, and with that routine, Emily knew she couldnt land a good job, so she cleaned a nearby salon in the evenings, confident her time would come.

That was all spinning in her head as she fetched her daughter, stopped at the chemist, and headed home. Juggling the key, she greeted her neighbour:

Hi, Claire!

Hello! Not again? Claire gestured at Molly, clinging to Emily.

Second time this month. I thought wed turned a cornersix months without a cold

Not that long! My Grace was fine a year, now its every month. Why not try a nanny? You earn more now, dont you?

Not that much Emily sighed. Come on, shoes off, darling.

Nurseries and nannies cost a fortune. Shame you havent a gran around.

It is. Right, see you later, Claire.

The door closed and Emilys eyes welled up. Oh, Mum, how I miss you.

But Molly, curled at her feet, snapped her back to reality. She tucked her into bed, with hot tea, and pondered: something had to change.

The rap at the door came quietly. Molly was asleep, Emily browsing job ads in silence. Odd that the visitor hadnt rung the bell. She opened the door to find Mrs. Allenthe elderly neighbour from the next block, whom she barely knew.

Evening, Emily!

Good evening! Is something the matter? Emily stared at the petite woman in surprise.

Yes, you could say that. Well, arent you going to invite me in?

Ohsorry! Emily moved aside to let her in.

Mrs. Allen bustled into the flat and, shoes off, nodded towards the kitchen.

Kettle in there?

Yes

To the kitchen, then. Let the little one sleepbest medicine.

Baffled, Emily poured tea for her guest, set out biscuits, and sat down.

You need a grandma for hire, dont you?

Sorrywhat?

A gran-for-hire, to look after your girl when shes poorly or youre working.

Emily blinked. There was a warm, familiar tone in Mrs. Allens voiceone her mother had used, when Emily was slow to catch on.

I do, actually. Just where would I find one?

No need. Ive come to offer myself. Will you have me as your nanny?

Emily hesitated; a timely offer, but she barely knew this woman.

How did you know I was looking?

Oh, Claire told me this morning. And I thought, nothing lost in asking.

Mrs. Allen, I hope you wont be offended

No need to hold back, love. Ask all you likeId want to know, too, in your shoes! Want me to tell you about myself? Then you can decide.

Emily, curiosity piqued, nodded. Mrs Allen sipped tea, helped herself to a biscuit, and began.

Born right here in London, working-class background, both parents at the docks. Grew up, finished school, worked at the biscuit factory, met my Bill. Two lads, put them both through school and trades. Bill passed youngbarely fifty. My boys moved away for work after the army. Got their own families, andwellIm left here. Four grandkids, but their mums mums help out, and now the kids are grown. Never had much chance to be part of their childhood. I watch the children in the playground and wish I could have that. Claire put the idea in my headwhy not ask? You see, Id enjoy it; youd get proper help.

Its a kind offer, Emily said, but I Ill need to think.

Of course! Sleep on it. You dont want to rush. Tell me tomorrow.

When Mrs. Allen left, Emily sat lost in thought.

“What do you think, Mum? Feels strangea wish comes true instantly. Is that a good sign?”

The years had made Emily waryespecially when it came to Molly. She lay awake, checking on her daughter every hour, and made up her mind by morning.

Mrs. Allen, helloId be glad to have you.

So began their arrangementwhich Mrs. Allen always called our partnership:

Were colleagues! You work, I work. You have peace of mind about your girl and Ive something to top up my pension with.

Dont your children help?

If I really need itbut theyve enough on, and Im still on my feet. If I can earn, I will.

At first, Emily watched like a hawk, but Molly adored Mrs. Allen from day one.

Feeling rough, are we, love? Mrs. Allen would check her temperature. Right! Ill make you some raspberry tea and tell you a nice long story. Youll nap, and all your aches will vanishjust see!

We havent any raspberries! Emily fretted.

I brought some. When would you have time? Mrs. Allen shooed Emily out the door.

A few months on, Molly was reading at five and had picked up checkers and chess.

Shes only five! You truly taught her to read? Emily asked, astonished.

Shes a clever thing. She loves chess and is a natural swimmer! You should let her join a clubIll take her.

Soon, Molly was swimming twice a week and playing chess in the after-school club.

I could never have managed; where would I find the time? Emily told Claire. Im really luckythank you, Claire.

Dont thank mejust dont be shocked if, when my Grace is older, I try to lure Mrs. Allen away!

Time passed. Molly started school, and Emily relied on Mrs. Allen less and less, but by then, she couldnt imagine life without her.

Emily, youre too clever to be a secretary forever, Mr. Thompson said one day, glancing up from his paperwork. Youve got the skills for a management role. Ever thought of moving up?

NoI never have. Im happy as I am.

Well, Im not! The firm will pay for your training, and well see what you can really do.

New training, a promotion, new prospectslife changed so quickly that Emily barely had time to decide whether she wanted it. Money was no longer as tight; Molly was thriving; Emily could finally breathe.

Thats what I like to seewell done, Emily! Mrs. Allen beamed with pride.

Their relationship had long surpassed colleagues. When Mrs. Allen vanished one day, Emily was genuinely alarmed.

Claire, where could she be? She didnt say a word. This isnt like her.

Have you phoned the hospitals?

All of them. They wont tell me anythingIm not family.

And her children?

They say they know nothing, cant come down. I dont get it!

You cant rely on them. Youll have to keep calling, keep looking.

Emily started going from hospital to hospital herself.

Who are you to her? Not her family? Why bother, then? was the usual reception.

She spent almost a week searching before finding Mrs. Allen at last.

She was admitted with no ID. Came round the second night, but cant remember a thing.

Emily sat at her bedside and felt the pressure build behind her eyes.

Why didnt anyone tell me earlier? Whats wrong with her?

Hit by a car. A minor concussion, bit of temporary amnesia. Are you her daughter? asked the young doctor.

Yes. Wheres the doctor in charge?

After a few hours Mrs. Allen was moved to a quieter room, and Emily grasped her hand.

How do you feel?

And you are?

Its meEmily. Dont worry, well help you remember. For now, you only need to rest.

Emily’s calls to Mrs. Allens sons came to nothing.

“Well, we’ll manage on our own,” Emily said. She hung up gently, recalling Lydias wordshow right her mother had been.

A week later, Mrs. Allen came home with Emily.

Molly, she cant remember anything, so call her Gran like always. And make sure shes calmthat will help her memory return.

Mum, is Mrs. Allen living with us now?

Yes.

Good, Molly pronounced.

Now it was Mollys turnshe would bring Mrs. Allen her lunch, help her with the telly, and sit beside her doing her homework:

“I’ll finish up, then we can play draughts, yes?”

Mrs. Allen called Molly her granddaughter, Emily her daughter, and Emily didnt argue. Did it matter what she called her? What counted was that she was here, and well.

Mrs. Allens son turned up six months later. Emily was hurrying home with a birthday cake for Molly when a tall, vaguely familiar man called out.

“Youre Emily?

“Yes?”

“Im David. Mrs. Allens son.”

“Hello.” Emily gripped the cake box a little tighter.

May I see Mum?

Of course. You dont need to askits about time you did.

I well David hesitated. Emily looked him up and down.

Lets be clearIm not after your mothers money or her flat. Shes helped us more than I can say; this is just me saying thank you.

You misunderstand his voice wavered.

Lets leave it at that. And by the wayvisit her all you like, but Im not giving her up. Not now.

Why? I want to bring her home.

If you really wanted that, youd have come sooner. She might have recovered by then.

And now?

Now she barely remembers the past, and shes settled. Dont be surprised if she doesnt know you. Lets go.

Emily opened the door. Molly opened her arms wide.

Oh, what a lovely box!

The cakes even betterhappy birthday, sweetheart! Emily kissed her. Molly, this is David AllenMrs. Allens son.

Who? Molly almost dropped the cake, but Emily gave her a look.

Hush. Remember what the doctor said?

Dont upset her?

Correct. Take the cake through, Ill be in soon.

Mrs. Allen did not recognise her son. David looked at his mother and saw only a frail old lady in a chair, propped up with cushionsa shadow of the strong woman he remembered.

Shell never remember us? he asked Emily later.

I dont know. The doctors cant say. What I do know is that shes happy here. Best let her be. Theres no point moving her now.

I see. Can we visit her?

Of course shes your mumcome by whenever you like.

As he left, Emily watched him go, knowing he wouldnt be back oftenif at all. She shrugged, closed the door, and thought: So be it. The past can stay behind. We have our own time, our own place, our own family now.

Molly, put the kettle onits time to celebrate!

Mum, can Gran have cake?

She must! The biggest slice. She always said you needed a treat when she looked after you, didnt she?

Time to sweeten things up! Molly laughed.

Thats it! We could all use that now. Emily locked the door, and followed her daughter into the kitchen.